23 Days Later
by Sin Oan
Summary: When the SPK take down a new Kira, they find their names written in his Notebook, and Near has just 23 days to defeat his greatest adversary - the Death Note itself!
1. Entry 1: Takedown

My first Death Note fanfic. Expect this to be short - a handful of chapters at the most. It's mainly based off the anime version, although I'll be using some names from the other Death Note works as well. It's first person, told from Near's pov, because Near is my favourite character and I've always wanted to write a fanfic for him. At most it will have some minor Near x Linda, I haven't decided yet. Anyway, please read and enjoy, and leave a review if you like it!

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><p><strong>Death Note: 23 Days Later<strong>

Entry 1 - Takedown

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><p>Twenty three days. That's the maximum length of time a Death Note can affect someone. A little over three weeks, tops. That's it. Twenty three days. Five hundred and fifty two hours. Thirty three thousand one hundred and twenty minutes. One million nine hundred eighty seven thousand two hundred seconds.<p>

Twenty three days. That's all I had. Now all I have left is one day. One measly day left to live, and nothing to show for it. For all my brilliance, for all my genius, I've been outsmarted by a _notebook_.

How humiliating.

I'm quite insulted by my own lack of intelligence. I expected more of myself, really. If you can't win the game, if you can't solve the puzzle ... you're just a loser.

Perhaps I should explain myself. Better that than sitting here wallowing in self-pity at my own incompetence. Where shall I start? Hmm ... I suppose the most pertinent moment was about twenty two days ago, when we cornered Kira.

Yes, _another_ Kira. As if three of them weren't enough, Ryuk had to make a nuisance of himself and give a Notebook to another human. Someone who believed strongly in Kira's ideals and wanted to become his successor, to avenge his untimely death. Ironically it was the very Shinigami that gave him his Notebook that had been the one to finally kill Light Yagami, but this new Kira saw me as the target of his divine vengeance.

I have to admit, I was actually excited when he first appeared. Criminals dying of heart attacks, an internet broadcast from someone claiming to be Kira's successor ... just the kind of challenge to snap me out of my boredom and give me something of interest to do. All I hoped then was that this new Kira would present a worthy adversary and keep me amused before I inevitably tracked him down and brought him to justice.

As it turned out he was depressingly stupid. Or so I thought. Learning his identity proved too easy. Taro Kagami, aged twenty five and a member of the Japanese police force. To his credit he went to ground as soon as he realised he had been exposed, and proved to be quite the slippery eel to pin down and capture, so he wasn't a complete moron. Nevertheless we managed to finally track his whereabouts to an abandoned building in Kyoto, thanks to the satellite internet feed he was using to identify and kill criminals.

That's where it all started. That's where it all went wrong. I learned that day that I had underestimated this new Kira, and that he was far more dangerous than I had ever initially suspected.

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><p>"In position now," Gevanni whispered, "Door is locked, give me a second ..."<p>

I watched the camera feed from his helmet on a bank of flat computer screens, the view shifting as he knelt down to pick the lock on the back door. A second feed from Lidner showed him at work as she stood to one side, gun at the ready. Rester was at one of the side entrances, waiting for the signal to move in. All members of the team were wearing helmets with tinted visors to conceal their faces, as Kagami possessed the Shinigami eyes. I was taking no chances here.

"Roger, what is he doing now?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the screens.

"He's writing names down in his Notebook. I can't make them out, however."

Unfortunate, but there was nothing we could do about that except hurry. Having tracked Kagami's internet satellite feed I had managed to hack his computer and activate his webcam. I glanced across at the screen Roger was seated in front of and saw our new Kira gleefully scribbling names down, just as he'd said. There was no indication that he was aware of what was about to happen, though. I pressed my hand to the side of my headset and spoke softly into it.

"Be on the lookout for Kagami's Shinigami," I warned the team, "If it is there it should still be unable to kill you without first seeing your faces, so be sure to keep your visors down at all times."

"Understood," came the chorus of replies. I couldn't help smirking slightly. It had taken scarcely a month to get this far, far less time than it had taken me to corner the original Kira. Too easy.

"L, we're ready to move on your word," Gevanni informed me. I didn't hesitate. Kagami was no Light Yagami but he was still a serious threat and needed to be stopped. Now.

"Go," I said.

They swept into the silent, dark and desolate building, pistols drawn and leading the way. Surveillance of the building had allowed us to determine that Kagami had a safe room set up on the second floor, where he kept his Notebook and computers hidden away. As far as I'd been able to determine he had no accomplices and no support - he was doing this all on his own. Another mistake. One of the reasons it had been so hard to nail the first Kira down was because he had so many supporters and allies to do his bidding for him. Kagami had none.

"First floor clear."

"Understood, proceed to the second floor," I instructed. As I continued to watch my team advance through the building I started playing with my hair distractedly. Something was bothering me. This was too easy. Was Kagami really this stupid? He'd issued a personal challenge to me, stating his intent not only to continue Kira's work of judging criminals, but to defeat and kill the one responsible for thwarting the original Kira. He wanted me dead. He knew I was pursuing him, yet to my knowledge he'd made no direct move against me thus far.

Something was wrong, but I wasn't sure what.

"Roger?"

"Still writing names. I must say he seems especially enthusiastic this time ..."

I frowned at that and curled a lock of my hair around my finger in apprehension. My team finally stacked up outside the room Kagami occupied and informed me that they were ready to take him down on my command. Something continued to bother me though. Was this a trap? Perhaps he had booby-trapped the building? Rigged it to explode and take his captors down with him? No, he must know that if I ever tracked him down I wouldn't put myself in harms way like that, and it was me he wanted dead.

Then what?

"L?" Roger prompted, seeing me hesitate. I scowled and lowered my hand.

"Do it."

It was all over in seconds. The door to his room wasn't even locked, and opened without setting off any kind of hidden triggers or bombs. There were shouts, commands instructing him to stop what he was doing and get down. Kagami ignored it all and continued to write frantically in his Notebook. Gunshots rang out and he went down.

"Dead," Rester announced, checking the new Kira for signs of life. I didn't care, I had made it clear that they were to shoot to kill if he did not surrender. Still troubled, my eyes continued to flick from one screen to the next.

"Check his Notebook," I said, fighting to keep the impatience from my voice, "I want to see what names he was writing."

I knew even before Lidner's helmet camera feed showed me what I wanted to see. Somehow I suspected the truth. The others were shocked though, and I heard Lidner cry out with alarm. This was because, written down clear as day in the pages of the open Notebook resting on Kagami's desk, were five names.

Anthony Carter

Halle Bullook

Stephen Loud

Roger Ruvie

Nate River

The correct and real names of the SPK task force members, myself included. And there, pinned up on a board beside the computers were photographs of each and every one of us. I couldn't imagine how Kagami had acquired them, but given his Shinigami eyes they were all he needed to get our real names and write them down.

Which he had done.

My mind raced, calculating how much time had passed since he had started writing. We had twenty seconds at best before we were all dead. Not much time to formulate a plan, especially when facing certain death. It didn't help that my team were starting to crack up at the realisation that they had mere seconds left to live.

"Gevanni, listen to me very carefully and do precisely as I say," I spoke as loudly and clearly as I had ever done, hoping emphatically that he would not question me or hesitate, for if he did then we had no chance at all, "Pick up the pen and write the following exactly as I dictate."

I waited and mercifully he did not question me, his trust in me cutting through his own panic and driving him to follow my instructions. He set his gun down on the desk and picked up the pen Kagami had dropped when they had dropped him. Once he was poised, ready to write, I took a deep breath and spoke again, choosing my words very carefully.

"All die from a heart attack in twenty three days time," I said. The seconds ticked by but Gevanni wrote the words down beneath our names as I told him, while Rester and Lidner watched on, all colour drained from their faces by now. When he was done he lifted the pen from the pages of the Notebook, his hand visibly shaking. I heard him swallow.

"Do you think that will work?" he asked, his voice just as shaky as his hand. I didn't answer him. There wasn't much point. We'd all find out within the next four seconds if I was right or not.

Three.

Two.

One.

... nothing. No sudden chest pains, no abrupt fits. No heart attacks struck anyone, even though forty seconds had passed since Kagami had written the first name down in the Death Note.

It had worked. We were all still alive.

For now.

"We're ... we're not dead?" Lidner murmured in amazement. I let out a sigh of relief and closed my eyes briefly.

"Not yet," I assured her, "Unfortunately all I have done is buy us some time."

Time, yes. Twenty three days to be exact. The immutable fact was, our names had all been written in the Death Note, and anyone who has their name written in it ... dies. At best I had managed to stave off imminent death and push back our execution date by about three weeks. That was the longest time the Notebook could influence anything, and the most time my idea had been able to buy us.

I had grossly underestimated Taro Kagami, for he _had_ gone after me, and he'd done it so well I hadn't even noticed. That was why it had been so easy to track him down in the end - he'd expended all his efforts on identifying me and the other members of the SPK rather than protecting himself. Perhaps he'd even deliberately made himself easier to find in order to lower my expectations of him ... which I had done. It hadn't occurred to me that he might be prepared to sacrifice his own life to have a shot at mine.

Maybe if I had acted sooner ... if I'd been more wary of him I would not have waited as long as I did to move in on him. But by taking things slow I'd signed our death warrants, effectively giving this new Kira the time he needed to get to us. And now it was too late.

"What now?" I heard Rester wonder aloud. I saw Roger watching me and promptly tore my headset off, letting it dangle in my fingertips as I stared sullenly back at him.

"Start a countdown, Roger," I said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice, "The clock is ticking ..."

Twenty three days. That's how much time I had to solve this problem.

That's how much time I had to defeat the Death Note.


	2. Entry 2: Separate Ways

**Death Note: 23 Days Later**

Entry 2: Separate Ways

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><p>"How can you be so calm about it?"<p>

I sat hunched on the floor of SPK headquarters, a pile of rubix cubes beside me. As I finished solving the one I held, I carefully placed it atop of the neat stack in front of me before taking a new one from the pile.

"Quite simply; there is no practical benefit to be gained from panic or frustration in this situation," I answered reasonably as I set to work on my fresh rubix cube, "An emotional response of any sort will not resolve the problem, therefore I see no reason to get worked up about it."

"So what you're saying is that we all have only twenty three days left to live, and there's not a thing any of us can do about it?" asked Lidner, holding up the Notebook that had been used by the most recent Kira.

"That is correct," I said, stacking yet another finished rubix cube. I hesitated as I reached for a new one, my hand frozen in place as I frowned slightly. "For what it's worth," I added, "I'm sorry it came to this. I consider this predicament to be the result of my own failings."

Leaning against a bank of computers with his arms folded, Rester shook his head. "We all knew the risks involved. This wasn't your fault, Near."

I snorted at that and picked up another cube. It was nice of him to say so, but he was wrong. It was my fault. I was in charge of the SPK, I called the shots, and my leadership had been insufficient to catch the latest Kira before he had been able to write our names down in his Notebook. If anyone was to blame, it was me, and I wasn't about to start making excuses for myself. I heard Gevanni sigh.

"So what now then? What are we supposed to do?"

I held up my newly solved cube and stared at it for a moment. "Whatever you want," I replied, "Consider yourselves all on vacation for the next three weeks. I suggest you use the time to visit your friends and family ... set your affairs in order, make arrangements, that sort of thing."

"And what are you going to do?"

I placed the cube at the very top of the stack in front of me and then carefully nudged it into place with my finger. "I'm an orphan with no social skills," I said without any bitterness or regret, "I have no friends or family, and my funeral arrangements were set in place years ago. I intend to remain here and work on the problem until the end."

This drew various startled looks from the team, save for Roger, who sat with his back to the rest of us. I did notice him turn his head slightly though. Lidner blinked with surprise at my statement.

"You still think there might be a chance to stop us from dying?" she asked, her voice tinged with just a faint trace of hopefulness. I withdrew my finger and regarded the stacked cubes critically, my mind calculating.

"I estimate a one percent probability that I might be able to find some way to overcome the Notebook."

"One percent?"

"More like half of a percent," I admitted with a bemused smirk, "I rounded up, since I'm a glass half-full kind of person."

There was more, but that was about the size of it. I asked them all to keep in touch in the event I needed to contact any of them for whatever reason, but when they left, the general understanding was that the situation was hopeless and that we all had a sword hanging over our heads. Nevertheless they actually seemed grateful to me for being able to buy us all twenty three days of time to say their goodbyes and such.

I on the other hand had no goodbyes to give to anyone. I had spoken the truth before - I had no friends, and to my knowledge no family either. The closest thing to a friend I ever had was Mello, and he was dead. Therefore I resolved to spend what time I had left trying to get more time. My final twenty-three days would be devoted to finding some way to escape the Notebook's clutches, to cheat my seemingly inevitable fate.

"Are you still here?" I asked Roger as I reached for another rubix cube. He half turned in his chair and regarded me out of the corner of his eye. He seemed thoughtful.

"Near ..."

"Yes?"

There was a lengthy pause before he continued. "Have you given any thought to a successor?"

A good point. Since there was a high probability that my efforts might end in failure, it would be prudent to secure a replacement, someone to take on the name of L should I die. I stopped in the middle of solving my current cube and stared at the thing, thinking the matter over. After a moments contemplation I finished the cube and stacked it before giving my answer.

"Yes," I said, "Send for Linda."

He nodded and then departed to make the necessary arrangements. When at last I was alone, I stood and climbed into a nearby chair. I perched in my usual fashion and reached out to lay a finger on the Notebook, which Lidner had left on the table.

"Ryuk," I said aloud.

"Hello again, human," the Shinigami answered in turn. I didn't take my eyes off the Notebook, I was too busy considering something important. After a while I smiled.

"How would you like to earn a barrel full of apples?"

That got a reaction. I heard him 'oooh!' at that, and saw the towering dark figure move about out of the corner of my vision. My smile remained.

"Where do you Shinigami get these Notebooks from?" I asked.

"From the Old Man of course."

"Old Man?"

"The Shinigami King," Ryuk explained, almost salivating at the prospect of a whole barrel full of juicy apples. My eyes widened slightly at the name. Well well, a king? I drummed my fingers on the Notebook absent mindedly.

"Tell me Ryuk," I said slowly, "Would it be possible for me to meet with this 'Shinigami King'?"


	3. Entry 3: Calling the Old Man Out

**Death Note: 23 Days Later**

Entry 3: Calling the Old Man Out

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><p>What transpired next is somewhat difficult to put into words. Having bribed Ryuk with an entire barrel full of apples (which I was forced to give him upfront, as he did not trust me to pay him later), the Shinigami reluctantly agreed to take me to his own domain. The Shinigami Realm. Such a thing had never been done before - to his knowledge at any rate - but strictly speaking there were no rules against it. As far as Ryuk was concerned, humans would have no reason to visit the Shinigami Realm, a place so tedious he assured me I would be in danger of dying from boredom should I insist on going there.<p>

Yet insist I did, as I desired an interview with this so-called Shinigami King. It was from this being that the Gods of Death acquired their Death Notes, and thus I felt a conversation with him could prove to be quite enlightening.

Actually getting there proved to be a hair raising experience. I was forced to climb onto Ryuk's back and hang on tight while the Shinigami spread his wings and effortlessly took to the skies. It was not an experience I care to repeat, all being told, and as we climbed higher and higher I felt I was in danger of freezing to death. Perhaps I should have dressed in winter weather gear before setting off.

The transition from the human world to the Shinigami world happened so fast I failed to observe it. All I knew was that one moment the skies were blue and filled with clouds, and the next instant everything about us was darkness. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I came to see that we were inside some manner of underground cavern. Ryuk flew upwards towards a dimly lit shaft, which opened up after a short distance to reveal the surface of the Shinigami realm.

What a truly desolate place. I could see why Ryuk had warned me about dying of boredom. At best I could compare it to a lifeless and barren desert, but somehow that description doesn't quite do it justice. The very fabric of reality within this world seemed to be devoid of life, as if the air and the light themselves lacked the energy of normal existence.

"How oppressively dreary," I remarked as Ryuk landed upon a stretch of what I supposed to be grey sand of some sort. The Shinigami chuckled as I climbed down.

"Well, you get used to it. Or you don't. Either way it doesn't really matter."

I followed him across this heartless, colourless landscape, glancing about me for signs of something, anything, that might be of interest. Bones, dust, ash. Shades of grey. This truly was a world of death.

"Ryuk, what are you doing?" a whining voice said. I stopped and turned to see another Shinigami standing behind me. It was some manner of mummified bird insect ... thing. Sadly my ability to adequately describe the bizarreness of some Shinigami is somewhat lacking.

"Go away Sidoh," Ryuk shot back, sounding more annoyed than anything else.

"Is that a _human_?" Sidoh asked, drawing closer. I didn't shrink away, I merely stared at ... him? The voice sounded vaguely male. He peered at me. "You brought a human to the Shinigami realm? Are you, like ... allowed to do that?"

"He's here, isn't he?" Ryuk said by way of an answer. I gave the Shinigami Sidoh a faint smile.

"I'm Near, pleased to meet you," I said.

"Huh?" Sidoh shifted slightly and seemed to be staring at the air just above my head. "Near? Says here your name is ... Nate ... River."

Of course, being a Shinigami he naturally had Shinigami eyes, and thus could see my name and lifespan. I nodded. "That's right, though I'm sure you can appreciate how dangerous it is for a human to give out their real name to anyone they meet. Especially with so many Death Notes turning up in the human world these days."

Sidoh seemed to bristle at that. "Well don't look at me! That's Ryuk's doing, not mine. You wouldn't catch me dropping a Notebook in the human world."

"Glad to hear it."

"Say human, I don't suppose you brought any chocolate, did you?" Sidoh asked hopefully, his strange hands fidgeting about. I frowned and then patted the pockets of my jeans. Sure enough I had an unopened chocolate bar in my back pocket. Ever since the closing of the original Kira case I'd taken up eating the stuff. A sentimental way of remembering Mello, I suppose.

"Well Mister Sidoh, it seems you're in luck," I said, offering him the chocolate. His alien face seemed to light up with joy and he snatched the bar from my hand. The wrapping was torn away in the blink of an eye.

"Mmmm, so delicious ..." Sidoh munched away at the creamy confection as I watched him, smirking slightly. Behind me Ryuk shuffled impatiently.

"Hey, human! Are you coming or not?"

I resumed following him once more, and we passed several other curious Shinigami as we went. Odd that I could see any of them without first touching their Notebooks. I suppose the rules governing such things were slightly different in the Shinigami realm itself. Needless to say they were all extremely surprised to see a human in their midst, such a thing having never happened before. Was I really the first human to ever set foot in this world? I suppose I must be at that.

It took almost twenty minutes of walking before we reached our destination; a towering mountain that overlooked the bleak landscape. I followed Ryuk into a yawning gash in the side of the mountain, through dark passageways, and finally into an ominous cavern of staggering size. Hundreds of metal chains were suspended in the air, many of them with sharp hooks on the ends of them.

"Here we are human," said Ryuk, turning to give me a wide grin (though I admit he seldom did otherwise), "You wanted to see the Old Man, so here he is."

"Where?" I asked, casting my gaze about. It was as icy as a crypt and my breath misted in the air in front of me. Yet of this supposed king of the Death Gods I could see nothing. Ryuk said nothing, he merely pointed upwards. I tilted my head back and looked up.

"Oh," I said.

The 'Old Man' as Ryuk called him was like a thing born from the feverish nightmares of H.R. Giger. A gigantic spherical mass of flesh and bone, with a skull like face set within a series of progressively larger skulls, and four skeletal arms dangling down. The entire thing seemed to be held in place by the chains, like a carcass strung up in a butchers shop.

All things considered, I remained remarkably calm. Despite the things ghastly visage I doubted it would harm me, and really, I already had a literal death sentence hanging over my head. The king of the Death Gods was just a punctuation on top of that.

"What are you doing here?" the King asked. His voice was ... peculiar to say the least. Given his appearance I had expected something deeper, more foreboding. Instead the Shinigami King sounded like a choir speaking softly in unison.

Since I was developing a crick in my neck staring up at him, and because the sight of him was not doing my state of mind any favours, I opted to drop down onto the cave floor and sprawl in my usual manner. Staring at the chain filled darkness ahead of me, I reached into my shirt and withdrew a pair of black Notebooks. These I held up.

"I thought I'd return these to you," I said, "Although they are evidence in the original Kira investigation, I feel they are too dangerous to leave in the human world."

The Notebooks were taken from my hand, which I lowered to the side of my head and began curling a strand of my hair. After a while the Shinigami King spoke up.

"You have three Notebooks in your possession. Why did you not bring the third?"

"I may have need of it at some point," I answered simply, "In the event of my death, Ryuk here can feel free to take it and return it to you."

Ryuk laughed but said nothing. I waited, doing likewise. I didn't have to wait long.

"In the event of your death?" the King repeated. I smiled. "You do realise that your name has been written in that Notebook?" he continued.

"I do."

"Then you must also know that your death is not in question."

"Actually, that is one of the things I wanted to discuss ..." I stopped curling my hair and began drawing my finger on the ground, tracing out various shapes. "Would it be fair to say that you have a complete understanding of the Death Note?"

"Yes."

My smile remained. "Is that right. Well then, in your opinion, would you say that it is possible for someone such as myself to escape the fate prescribed for me by the Notebook?"

"No," was his simple answer. I waited to see if he would say anything more, but he did not, so I pressed on.

"You sound certain of that."

"I am. The human whose name is written in the Death Note shall die."

"And there is no loophole? No way out?"

"None."

Well, I certainly didn't expect him to outright admit that there was. Shinigami have been known to lie before, Ryuk had taught me that much. Nevertheless I didn't think the King was lying in this case. He genuinely believed that the Death Note was inescapable. Why wouldn't he? All indications were that it was. Perhaps I was wasting my time trying to cheat death.

Still, if I _wasn't_, then I wanted this all to be worth my while. If I was going to prevail against impossible odds then I should milk such an accomplishment for all its worth.

"In that case," I said slyly, ceasing my imaginary doodling, "Would you care to make a wager?"

Silence. Then-

"A wager?"

"Yes. My intellect against your certainty."

"Why would I do that?" the King asked. I snorted sharply.

"I'm dying. Humour me."

He seemed to consider it, and I waited patiently for his answer. He was not yet convinced.

"What would be the stakes?"

Here goes ...

"One wish."

"Huh?" said Ryuk, staring at me in wonder. I heard the chains holding the King move above me.

"Explain," he said. So I did.

"If I manage to accomplish the impossible and defeat the Notebook, then as a reward you will grant me one request. Anything that is within your power to give, you shall."

"And when you fail?"

When. Not if. He really was certain there was no way out. Good. And bad. But then, what did I have to lose by trying?

"I die."

Ryuk laughed. "That hardly sounds like a fair deal. What's in it for him? You're going to die anyway."

I treated Ryuk to a withering glare. "Yes, but as far as he is concerned there is no possible way he could lose this wager. Therefore, if he really is as certain as he claims to be, he should have no reason not to agree to my terms. After all, the only way I can win is to achieve something utterly impossible. Isn't that right?"

Ryuk fell over laughing at that, whilst the Shinigami King remained silent, thinking my words over. Keeping my face carefully neutral I tilted my head back and stared up at the King once more, fixing the horrific being with my unflinching gaze.

"Of course if you'd rather not agree to my wager," I challenged, "Then that can only mean that you are _not_ completely certain it is impossible. In which case I will take my leave and set to work on the problem, strengthened by the knowledge that the King of the Gods of Death suspects there may in fact be a loophole to exploit after all."

I had him, plain and simple. He _was_ certain that the Notebook was invincible, and that I was doomed. Yet if he refused then it would be as good as admitting that he wasn't. I waited for his answer, never once looking away. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the Old Man responded.

"Very well," he said, "I accept ..."


	4. Entry 4: Loli Logic

**Death Note: 23 Days Later**

Entry 4: Loli Logic

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><p>480:00:00<p>

479:59:59

479:59:58

* * *

><p>Contrary to what the other members of the SPK think, I <em>do<em> actually sleep on occasion. Reluctant though I was to devote the little time I had left to shutting down my brain, I was nevertheless compelled to do so. Lack of sleep has a detrimental effect on the cognitive functions and I required my thought processes to operate as smoothly and efficiently as possible. The state of consciousness that occurs just prior to falling asleep and fully waking is one I have also found to be beneficial at times. At least once the solution to a case came to me as I was starting to doze off.

Sadly not true on this occasion, and I awoke to find myself still none the wiser about my predicament. I was lying on the cold floor of the SPK headquarters, the soft glow of computer screens blurring my vision. To my surprise however, I discovered something quite unexpected as my mind began to fully take notice of things. To begin with, someone had placed a blanket over me and a cushion under my head. This simple act of kindness utterly baffled me, for it was not something I was accustomed to.

An explanation immediately presented itself when my vision swam into focus and fixated sharply upon a piece of paper lying on the floor beside me. As I snatched it up I saw that it was a drawing of myself, sleeping just as I had so recently been doing. I recognised the style at once and knew then who was responsible for the blanket and cushion.

"You've really gotten yourself into a pickle here, haven't you Near?" said Linda. I turned to see her sitting cross-legged upon the table, watching me with those wide brown eyes of hers as she sucked on a cherry lollipop.

"Linda," I rubbed at my sleep-filled eyes and stifled a yawn, "When did you get here?"

"About four and a half hours ago."

"You might have woke me," I scolded, glancing over at the LED clock Roger had rigged up for me. It counted down the hours that remained before the sword of Damocles fell. Just under four hundred and eighty. About twenty days left. Linda shrugged.

"I figured you needed the sleep. I mean you look awful, Near. When was the last time you ate something?"

I winced and pressed a hand to my head. Three days down and not an inch of progress. How annoying. "I don't recall," I lied.

"And the last time you had a bath? Or doesn't the mighty L need to worry about such minor inconveniences as grime?"

"Is this your roundabout way of telling me I smell, Linda?"

Linda sprang off the table and helped me to my feet. Not that I needed the help, though I confess to feeling a tad light-headed from lack of food. Body maintenance is such a nuisance. Linda leaned close and sniffed at me in an exaggerated fashion, before pulling back and smirking.

"No, you're alright for now."

I grimaced and held up the sketch she had done of me. "Nice picture," I remarked wryly, "Draw a lot of boys in their sleep, do you?"

Linda sucked at her lolly for a moment and then giggled. "Only the cute ones. So ... it's true then, what Roger told me? You're really going to die when that clock reaches zero?"

I perched myself in the nearest available chair and set Linda's drawing down, before scowling at the timer in question. "That does seem to be the prevailing opinion," I replied tersely.

"But you think there's a way out."

"It's never been done before."

"First time for everything."

"So they say," I admitted, my scowl vanishing. I regarded Linda from the corner of my eye as I idly curled a lock of hair around my finger.

Technically I had sent for her in order to prepare her for taking over the position of L, as I considered her the most capable resident of Wammy's House to fill my metaphorical shoes. To be perfectly honest though I don't entirely like Linda's way of doing things. She has always been much more intuitive than logical for my taste. There was no denying that there was brilliance there, though, and I was actually hoping that she might be able to assist me with my own problem. Perhaps Linda might see something I could not. I have never been ashamed to ask for help if I really needed it, and I have to admit that in this situation I _did_ need help.

"Bit of a paradox, really," Linda remarked, leaning against the table and twirling her lollipop in a bored fashion. I tilted my head and frowned.

"How so?"

"Well I mean, you want me to take your place as L if you die. If I do that then I will have failed to help you beat this killer Notebook and I'll start my career as L off with a glaring failure. But then if I help you beat the Notebook you'll live, and I won't get to be the next L after all. Kind of a catch twenty two situation, really."

Oh, was that all? I snorted and shook my head. "Don't let that bother you, Linda. One way or the other, I will cease to be L at the conclusion of this case."

Now it was her turn to frown and stare at me. "What do you mean by that?"

I didn't answer her. It wasn't important, and I had to get back to work. Prior to my departure from the Shinigami realm, the Old Man had been kind enough to allow me to take a glimpse at the rulebook. Apparently there were far more rules governing the Death Note than just those written inside the front cover of each Notebook. A Shinigami named Armonia Justin had a copy of all the rules in their entirety, which I was permitted to read. I was not allowed to take them with me back to the human world, but since I have an eidetic memory there was no real need.

Having memorised all the rules, I'd taken the liberty of writing them down upon a deck of blank cards, which currently lay in a neat stack on one of the tables. A digital copy was stored in the SPK computer banks for easier access as well, but I wanted a tactile list I could touch. There had to be something in the rules that I could exploit, some clause or loophole.

So I kept telling myself. I'd had the list of rules for the past two days now, though, and nothing stood out to me. Oh, certainly there were several steps one could take to prevent a Notebook from killing you by exploiting the rules, but nothing if your name had _already_ been written down successfully. Prevention, yes. Cure? No. Not that I could see.

Still, it was early days. I had just under twenty days left to crack the problem, and now Linda was here she might even be able to help. In the meantime I needed to clear my mind and occupy myself with a simple task, so I gathered up the cards and set about stacking them. Repetitive activities such as stacking things always helps me to concentrate. I began building a house of cards out of the Death Note rules, while Linda sucked her lollipop and watched me with interest. After a while she produced a sketchpad and pencil, perched herself upon the table and began to draw.

"You're not drawing me again, are you?" I asked her as I carefully balanced a card atop two others. Linda nodded, her pig-tails bobbing either side of her head as she did so. I sighed. "Why, may I ask?"

"Drawing helps me to think," she answered brightly, "That's just the way I am. You play with toys and stack things, I draw and suck lollipops. Together we conquer the universe."

Fair enough. If it helped her then I suppose it couldn't be helped. I concentrated on my house of cards, and five minutes later took up the final card, upon which was written the number one rule of the Death Note.

**The human whose name is written in this note shall die.**

"Hey, Near?"

"Yes?" I asked as I carefully prepared to place the last card.

"... has anyone ever told you that you look like a girl?"

The house of cards collapsed, and I was left frozen, still clutching the last card deftly between my fingertips. After a long drawn out silence, I lowered the card and turned to give Linda a withering stare. She in turn smiled cheerfully back at me from over the top of her sketchpad.

"You sound like one as well," she added helpfully, before returning to her drawing. I continued to stare at her, and then glanced down at the pile of scattered cards before me. With a heavy sigh I tossed the card I was holding down atop the pile, my shoulders slumped.

"I miss Mello," I muttered.


	5. Entry 5: The L Word

The first part of this chapter is a flashback, depicting the scene from the second Relight special, with a little bit added to the end by myself.

Expect a handful more chapters of this before I wrap the story up. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks to those following this, and to those who left reviews. Appreciate it!

* * *

><p><strong>Death Note: 23 Days Later<strong>

Entry 5: The L Word

* * *

><p>"I'm next!"<p>

"No, I'm next!"

"I try to envision the events that take place as individual elements," said L, "I can then make a note of each one, but I gain a better understanding when I combine all of these again as a whole. Which is why ... I have very bad handwriting."

They chuckled at that.

"Any other questions?" L prompted after a moment. Seated before the laptop setup at the front of the group, Linda raised her hand excitedly.

"Oh! Oh! Can you tell me if there's something you're not good at?" she asked, "Or maybe something that you're scared of?"

"Something I'm scared of?" L repeated, sounding vaguely surprised by the question. One of the other children snorted.

"What? Yeah right, L's not scared of anything."

"Well," he replied eventually, "I suppose ... monsters."

This drew more laughter from the assembled group, Linda in particular, who grinned at the screen. "Me too, I am too!" she chortled. Again, one of the other kids scolded her.

"Dummy, L's not the same as you."

"There are many types of monsters in this world ..." L spoke solemnly after the laughter had died down, "Monsters who will not show themselves and who cause trouble. Monsters who abduct children. Monsters who devour dreams. Monsters who suck blood, and ... monsters who always tell lies. Lying monsters are a real nuisance, they are much more cunning than other monsters. They pose as humans even though they have no understanding of the human heart. They eat, even though they've never experienced hunger. They study, even though they have no interest in academics. They seek friendship, even though they do not know how to love. If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by it, because in truth ... I am that monster."

Silence greeted this speech, every one of the children struck dumb by the admission. Several of them exchanged confused and worried glances. Mello however merely bit into his chocolate bar, and Near continued to play with his rubix cubes. After a while L finally spoke again.

"I have time for two more questions ... anyone?"

None of the children crowded around the laptop said anything. They were still stunned by the speech L had given them. When it became evident that none of them could think of anything to ask, Mello decided to pose the great detective a question.

"Have you ever met anyone smarter than you?" he said, his eyes fixed upon the white-haired figure across the room. Near lowered his cube and peered back at Mello from the corner of his own eye.

"No, I have not," L responded flatly, "Though that is not to say that there _is_ no one smarter than I am, I ... certainly wouldn't be so arrogant as to claim _that_. Having said that I feel it is important to mention that there is more to being the world's greatest detective than just being smart. Sherlock Holmes once admitted that his brother Mycroft possessed a sharper intellect than he, yet made for a dreadful detective because he lacked the will to act. All the intelligence in the world is worth nothing if you do not make use of it. As the saying goes, he who dares ... wins."

Many of the children were watching Mello, who smirked and bit into his chocolate once more. Their attention shifted to Near when they heard his soft-spoken voice call out.

"And do you always win?" Near asked without turning around. He held up his rubix cube and turned it this way and that as he regarded it. The assembled group all looked to the laptop, awaiting L's answer, which came a moment later.

"Yes I do," said L, "And that is why I am the best. I do whatever it takes to win, at any cost, because quite simply ... I hate to lose."

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><p>360:42:01<p>

360:42:00

360:41:59

* * *

><p><em>"I hate to lose ..."<em>

L's words echoed in my mind as I stared at the cards arrayed on the table before me. In the end L had lost, to someone smarter than he was, someone who dared and won despite all of L's brilliance. It had taken an act of even greater daring to defeat that person.

The problem was, this time I wasn't facing a person, I was facing a _thing_. A Notebook of death. An iron clad set of rules. There was no mind to outwit here, no person who could be manipulated or tricked. This was different. It was like trying to find a loophole in the laws of physics. I was challenging death itself.

I may as well try to convince gravity to let go of me.

"What's the matter, Near?" Light taunted, leaning across the table to leer at me, "Surely someone as clever as you can work it out?" He reached out and laid his fingertips upon the cards in front of me. "You have all the pieces to the puzzle. How hard can it be? I thought you were good at puzzles Near."

I stared at him, that number one card clutched loosely in my fingers. That seemingly immutable rule that condemned me to an early grave.

_The human whose name is written in this note shall die ..._

"You're going about this all wrong," Mello snapped, grabbing the back of my chair and swiveling it around to face him. He thrust his face inches away from mine, his piercing gaze boring into me. "You're so predictable, Near; you have a problem and you sit there trying to out-think it, when what you _should_ be doing is trying to out-_fight_ it."

Light snorted derisively at that. "Oh really? Fight death? And how exactly is anyone supposed to do that?"

"The same way you fight any opponent," said L, his logo appearing on the computer screens that filled the room, "You find their weaknesses and you exploit them."

"And then you strike," Mello added, clenching a gloved hand into a fist before me.

"Near?"

I turned to see Linda enter the room, an excited expression adorning her bright face. She ran up to me and staggered to a stop, and I could almost imagine screeching sounds as she did so. She took a moment to catch her breath and then jabbed a fresh lollipop at my face.

"I've figured it out!" she exclaimed.

"Do tell," I said, a shade skeptical. Linda searched frantically about for one of the rule cards, before triumphantly seizing upon it. She held it before me and very nearly jumped up and down on the spot out of sheer exuberance. I stared at the card.

**In the event that there are more than 6 Death Notes in the human world, only the first 6 Death Notes that have been delivered to humans will have effect.**

"That's it! Don't you see?"

I sighed. "It won't work, Linda," I tried to tell her, already knowing what she was about to suggest having thought of it myself days ago. She didn't seem to hear and pressed on with an explanation regardless.

"If we return the Notebook that has your name in it to the Shinigami realm, then bring six more Notebooks to the human realm, and _then_ return the original Notebook back to the human realm-"

"Linda-"

"Then it should lose its power. It's like it says, if there are already six Death Notes in the human world, the seventh won't work! So if the seventh Notebook happens to be the one with your name in it, you should be ... wait, what?" She finally blinked as my words got through to her. "What do you mean it wont work?"

"Because it's highly impractical for one," I explained patiently, "It would require an unprecedented level of assistance from the Shinigami to even try. Given that I issued a personal challenge to their King, I doubt somehow they'd oblige and hand over six Notebooks to us. Besides," I set the card I was holding down upon the table and laid my index finger upon it, staring off into space as I continued, "We already know that a Notebook can still kill even if destroyed. What you suggest in all likelihood would only prevent any further names written down in that Notebook from dying. Names already written down while the Death Note was working will likely still die regardless of what we do to it."

Linda sagged, her face grimacing in despair. "Damn. And I was sure I had it then."

Find its weaknesses and exploit them, that's what my overactive imagination had said. Did the Death Note have weaknesses? Well ... what would constitute a weakness in this case?

An exception.

An exception to the rules.

Were there any exceptions to the golden rule? I glanced down at the cards, though I already knew every rule off by heart. Even so, several of the rule cards seemed to glow, to stand out to me, highlighting the very thing I sought. Exceptions. Weaknesses.

**The Death Note will not affect those under 780 days old.**

**The Death Note will be rendered useless if the victim's name is misspelled four times.**

**If a Death Note owner accidentally misspells a name four times, that person will be free from being killed by the Death Note.**

**If writing the same name on more than two Death Notes is completed within 0.06 seconds, it is regarded as simultaneous; the Death Note will not take effect and the individual written will not die.**

**You cannot kill humans at the age of 124 or over with the Death Note.**

**You cannot kill humans with less than 12 minutes of life left (in human calculations).**

**The owner of the Death Note cannot be killed by a god of death who is living in the world of the gods of death.**

**The Death Note will not take effect if you write a specific victims name using several different pages.**

In addition, there was one rule which, whilst not preventing death entirely, nevertheless waived the 23 day rule.

**If you write, "die of disease" like before with a specific disease's name, but without a specific time, if it takes more than 24 days for the human to die the 23-day rule will not take effect and the human will die at an adequate time depending on the disease.**

These were the exceptions. The simple fact that there _were_ exceptions meant that the core rules of the Death Note were not inviolate. The golden rule which states that the human _will_ die is not 100% true for all cases.

What this demonstrated was that, under certain circumstances, the Notebook would _not_ kill. This, I felt, represented the closest thing to a weakness the Death Note had. If the Notebook was prepared to make exceptions, no matter what the reason, then that meant there was a chance I could survive this. A chance, however small, that I could ensure the Notebook did not kill me.

The only question was ... how?


	6. Entry 6: Vita Brevis

**Death Note: 23 Days Later**

Entry 6: Vita Brevis

* * *

><p>215:07:33<p>

215:07:32

215:07:31

* * *

><p>Linda sat amidst a stack of sketches, silently scribbling away with a handful of pencils and an eraser, her brow furrowed in concentration. I was quite frankly astonished she had decided to remain as the days passed. I'm not an easy person to be around, and I'm afraid I made for even lousier company under the present circumstances. Not once did she complain, though. In fact were it not for her presence I might very well have died from personal neglect long before the Death Note got around to giving me my scheduled heart attack. I've never been very good at taking care of myself.<p>

For my part, I did what I always do; play with my toys and stack things, all the while struggling to devise a solution to the dilemma facing me. The hours ticked by without result, but I refused to give up. I would not admit defeat until the very end. Now only about nine days remained before my appointment at the gallows.

I was not looking forwards to it.

That may sound a stupid and redundant thing to say, but I think it merits saying anyway. I have no wish to die. On the contrary, it was my desire to live that drove me to spend every waking moment I had left fighting for more time. Also, I had not forgotten that there was more at stake here than just my life. Every member of the SPK would also die should I fail. My leadership would cost them all their lives unless I found a way to prevent it.

In a way I felt guilty over that. The only reason we were all in this mess was because I underestimated the latest Kira. A lapse on my part, and an unforgivable one at that. It was my fault they were going to die.

Perhaps it was a coincidence, or perhaps some kind of synchronicity, but as my thoughts drifted to that of my team a call came in from Commander Rester. I was sitting on the floor building a pyramid out of mahjong tiles when his face appeared on one of the video screens. I gave him a half-hearted wave before continuing to stack tiles.

"Just checking in on you," Rester said, his voice coming in loud and clear through the speaker, "Any luck with the Notebook?"

"I'm afraid not," I answered, "I'm convinced now there _is_ a way to beat the Death Note, but I'm not so certain I can figure it out in the allotted time. If I come up with anything I'll be sure to let you know."

To be honest I expected to hear from the SPK team members as time began to run out. No doubt they still retained a flicker of hope that I would pull a miracle out of my head and save the day. I have to admit though that I didn't think Rester would be the first one to give me a call. Out of them all I figured him to be the least likely to clutch at straws.

Despite my dismissive answer, Rester did not disconnect. He remained silent for several seconds, before speaking again, somewhat hesitantly.

"Near ... how are you holding up?"

My hand froze, a mahjong tile poised to be placed near the top of the pyramid. Oh. Had I misjudged him? Perhaps he wasn't calling up looking for a light at the end of the tunnel after all. Was that genuine concern in his voice I heard? I smirked wryly.

"Not ... so well," I admitted, placing the tile and staring at the pyramid before me. "Thank you for your concern, though. I appreciate it."

"I'm only half a days drive from where you are," Rester continued, "I've taken care of my own business. Do you want me to stop by?"

I shook my head (I think he could see me via the video feed) and stacked another tile. "No, that won't be necessary. Believe it or not I actually have company."

"Oh?" Rester sounded surprised. Right on cue, Linda hopped into sight and waved at the screen, smiling brightly. His expression became unmistakably startled. "A _girl_?"

I gestured vaguely. "Linda, this is Commander Rester. He's with the SPK. Commander, this is Linda."

"Hi!" Linda beamed.

Rester actually let out a short, bemused laugh. "Don't tell me you're his girlfriend?" he asked Linda in tones of complete disbelief. Linda chuckled at that.

"Yeah right, I wish!"

I dropped my mahjong tile and stared at her, shocked. It wasn't often that anything shocked me, so you can imagine Rester's reaction. I think priceless would be an accurate description. For both of us in fact. Linda turned and, seeing my expression, shrugged.

"What? I wouldn't mind having you for a boyfriend. Is that so surprising?"

I searched about for an appropriate response, somewhat at a loss for words. "Yes," I eventually settled on. Not up to my usual standards, I know, but to be fair this was not a situation I was remotely familiar with. Rester chuckled.

"Well Near, looks like you have an admirer."

"That would be a first," I murmured, reaching up to rub the side of my head. It should come as no surprise that I have zero experience or ability with social interactions, and as such had never been remotely regarded in such a fashion before. Linda dropped herself down on the floor beside me and giggled as only a young girl teasing someone could.

"You know, Near, the kids back at the orphanage all thought that you and Mello were gay."

I glared at her for a moment, but I wasn't the type to take offence at such remarks, and thinking about it I can't say I found it that surprising really. I exhaled sharply and picked up my dropped tile. "I'm not. Mello on the other hand ... they may have been right."

Linda pressed her hands together and leaned towards me ever so slightly, an eager expression on her face. "Oh? So does that mean you might be open to having a girlfriend then?"

Rester was still watching me from the video screen, showing every sign of listening with interest. This was not an area he'd given any thought to over the years we'd worked together. I don't think it had ever crossed the minds of any of the SPK before. It had never even crossed _mine_ before. At twenty one years old, I'd passed through puberty without seeming to notice it. I scowled and placed the tile.

"No," I said flatly. Linda actually appeared crestfallen.

"Aww. Why not?"

Why were we having this conversation? It was hardly productive. "You mean besides the fact that I'm dying?" I sighed heavily, suspecting that would not be enough. "I'm afraid I'm with Tesla on this one; such things merely detract from ones intelligence."

"What?" Linda stared at me in disbelief. "You can't be serious! Are you trying to say love makes people dumb?"

I could certainly make a case for it, I reflected sourly. I didn't say as much though. Instead I placed two more tiles in quick succession, finishing off my pyramid. I sat back and nodded in satisfaction at the result.

"All I'm saying is that Nikola Tesla attributed his genius to his chastity, and speaking as someone with no interest in such matters I believe he may have been onto something."

Still visible on a video screen, Rester did not seem at all surprised by my answer. If anything it merely confirmed what he already knew about me. Linda on the other hand did not seem remotely happy. Actually, 'sulking' might be closer to her reaction. Arms crossed, huffing sounds, puffing out her cheeks. That sort of thing. She looked even more like a child than I did, which was saying something. Evidently Rester noticed as well.

"I think you may have upset her, Near," he pointed out in mock seriousness. I opened my mouth to answer when, and to my considerable astonishment, Linda lunged at me and wrapped her arms around me.

"It's not fair!" she cried out, her eyes squeezed shut, "You're too cute to stay single!"

I stared at her aghast, _my_ eyes wide open, unsure how to respond. Lacking the words, I gave Rester a pleading look, as if begging him to help me. Being half a days drive away, all he could do was watch and try not to crack up at the sight of us. I should never have sent him away. I tried to wriggle out of the girl's grasp, but it was no use. Linda opened her eyes and gazed at me with an expression I found completely alien.

"I've always had a crush on you, Near," she insisted, much to my embarrassment, "Even when we were kids at Wammy's. Didn't you ever notice?"

I can't say that I did, though in those days I spent all my time inside my own head. I probably wouldn't have noticed anything even if Matt and Mello began kissing each other right in front of me. One time they started a food fight in the cafeteria, and I was so preoccupied with arranging my alphabet soup into alphabetic order that I remained completely oblivious. Right up until I finished and looked up to see Matt and Mello being dragged away, covered in soggy A's and Z's.

For a detective in training, my observational skills occasionally left something to be desired.

"Linda, whilst I'm flattered-" I tried to say. It was no use. Linda hugged me tightly once again, her voice rising into an almost plaintiff wail.

"You're just so soft and huggable!"

"Rester!" I exclaimed, panicking somewhat. I was being fiercely glomped by a girl and had no idea how to defend myself. "Help!"

Rester chortled and shook his head. "Sorry Near, I'm afraid you're on your own on this one," he said, and then severed the connection before I could plead any further. What a traitor. If we weren't all dying I would fire him for insubordination. Suddenly, and to my intense relief, Linda released me and glanced around.

"Is he gone?"

I blinked and stared at her. "What?"

She giggled and turned back, a sly smirk on her face. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. Admit it, I had you going there. Almost made you blush."

She was _pretending_? ... how had I not deduced that? Stress. It had to be. I scowled at her. "That wasn't funny, Linda."

"Maybe not, but it was _so_ worth it!" She giggled some more and got up. I watched her stride past me and head back to her drawings, my eyes narrowed suspiciously. Finally I turned back to stare at the mahjong pyramid in front of me, now finished. I still had enough loose tiles to build another one beside it, and so shuffled about, snatching up a new tile as I set to work.

After placing the first handful of tiles, I glanced up at the clock that counted down my remaining lifespan. It was almost like having my own set of Shinigami eyes. Two hundred and fifteen hours left. I looked down at the tile in my hand, a strange heavy sort of feeling in my chest.

I had meant what I had said earlier - I had no real interest in romantic engagements, and considered such things to be a distraction at best, a detriment to genius at worst. Nevertheless I _had _been flattered by Linda's apparent feelings for me. It was the first time anyone had ever shown that kind of interest in me in my entire life, and the fact that even _that _had been just an act ... it stung a little.

It wasn't that I _wanted_ that kind of attention. I certainly didn't, and wouldn't know what to do with it even if I did attract it. But still. At the time, it had provoked a completely irrational feeling in me, aside from embarrassment and uncertainty. Here I was, with just days left to live, and for some inexplicable reason I felt as if it would be ... _nice_ if at least one person in the world had some manner of warm feelings for me.

Was that too much to ask? Or was I being selfish? I never made an effort to engender such feelings, so I had only myself to blame for the lack of it. And really, it didn't bother me that much.

Shoulders slumped perhaps a trifle more than usual, I continued to place tiles neatly.

"Near?"

I felt Linda's hands on my shoulders, and before I could react she leaned over and whispered into my ear.

"I wasn't really kidding around."

Then she kissed me on the cheek and pulled away. When I finally did look around, she was scribbling away in her sketchpad once more, giving no indication that anything was amiss, save perhaps for a barely perceptible smile. I returned to building my second pyramid with a barely perceptible smile of my own.

I may have even blushed a little.


	7. Entry 7: Lacrimosa

**Death Note: 23 Days Later**

Entry 7: Lacrimosa

* * *

><p>72:06:40<p>

72:06:39

72:06:38

* * *

><p>I placed the final piece and then sat back to admire my handiwork. It was quite impressive - a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle of the Taj Mahal. Nor was it the only one. The control room was filled with 3D puzzles, including Big Ben, the Whitehouse, El Castillo, a globe of the Earth, and the Sphinx. Accompanying each one was a detailed sketch drawn by Linda.<p>

Now however, I was finished. I had run out of jigsaw puzzles and as I glanced at the clock, I saw that little more than three days remained before my time was up. Just three days left to solve the biggest puzzle of them all.

Three days.

I confess, I was beginning to have my doubts now. Together, Linda and I had gone through the rules of the Death Note with a fine-tooth comb, bouncing suggestions off one another as we struggled to unearth a solution. An idea. Anything. Yet no matter what we came up with, each idea was just as quickly dismissed. It really was starting to seem impossible.

Linda lay flat on her stomach, lollipop in mouth as she stared with her exhausted brown eyes at the stack of rules in front of her. She groaned and buried her face in her arms, her feet swinging back and forth in annoyance at the sheer futility of it all. What optimism she'd initially had was almost certainly gone now.

I sighed wearily. It was no use. I couldn't put it off any longer now.

"Linda."

She looked up at me and blinked tiredly a few times, before giving me a questioning sort of noise. I stared at the clock and watched as the LED seconds counted down towards my seemingly inevitable demise.

"I have already made all of the necessary preparations for you to assume the identity of L," I informed her calmly, "There's a disc in the desk over there-" I pointed, "It contains instructions and information you will need when the time comes. The files are protected. The password is your name."

I could feel her gaze boring into me, all trace of her previous fatigue gone in the face of my words. She stared, fully alert now, and slowly removed the lollipop from her mouth. I have no doubt that some kind of protest was imminent from her.

"What are you saying? Is that it?" she demanded sharply, "You're surely not just giving up!"

I reached up and began curling my hair around my finger, my gaze shifting to the 3D puzzle on the floor in front of me. "I intend to keep working on the problem until the very last second," I answered, "However it seems increasingly unlikely that I will succeed. Therefore you need to be ready to take over the position in the event of my death."

Silence. Linda said nothing, and I didn't look her way. After a few seconds I spoke again.

"Linda ... you don't have to stay. If you want to take the disc and leave, I won't hold it against you."

I heard the scribbling of pencil on paper, and a moment later a hastily drawn cartoon was dangled in front of my face. It showed Linda handcuffed to me, with the caption 'LIKE HELL' written above it. I couldn't help smirking at that as she dropped the drawing into my lap and then sat cross-legged beside me.

I wish I wasn't going to die.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said flatly, "Now stop with the defeatist talk Near, because it's just not like you. Your brain is probably waiting for the last possible moment before it coughs up the solution, just for the sake of being melodramatic."

I wish that were true.

"Somehow I doubt it ..." I placed the picture on the floor and shook my head sadly. "I don't mind telling you Linda, I'm ... scared."

Which was true. It felt as if I'd finally met my match. I was up against the Death Note, the Shinigami, mortality itself. And no matter how hard I tried, I could not see a way out of this. I'd been so sure I would find a way, but now ... it seemed impossible. I knew what this feeling was. It was despair.

"That does it." Linda got up and marched across the room, to the table where the Death Note itself lay. I stared at her with wide-eyed astonishment as she opened the Notebook and flourished her pencil.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, alarmed. She couldn't be ... surely not?

"Something I should have done days ago," Linda muttered under her breath, "I guess I was just too much of a coward."

She was going to write her own name in the Notebook! Why? What possible reason could she have to do that? I couldn't fathom one. All I knew was that I had to stop her. With speed that would have astonished anyone who knew me, I sprang to my feet and hurled myself at her. I managed to grab a hold of her just as her pencil touched the pages of the Notebook.

"Stop! Have you lost your mind?" I almost shouted at her as I yanked her arm back. A struggle ensued, one for which I was ill-equipped. I had all the physical strength of a child. Only desperation allowed me to stay her hand.

"Near, I have to do this, it's the only way!" Linda insisted, fighting to free herself from my frantic grasp.

"What are you talking about? How will killing yourself help anything?" I managed to pry the pencil from her fingers. Staggering back from her, I held it behind my back and then caught my breath. On reflection I was quite astonished by my behaviour. This was so very unlike me. It was almost unthinkable for me to exert myself in such a fashion. What had come over me?

"Don't you see?" Linda rounded on me and tried to explain. "I can help you to beat this thing if I write my name down. By using the Notebook to control my actions prior to my death, I can specify that I give you the clue you need to win before dying."

So that was what she was playing at. I should have guessed. It was insane. True enough, the Notebook could be used to control a person's actions up until the moment of their death, but it had its limits. I shook my head in denial of her flawed logic. "That won't work. If the circumstances are deemed impossible, then the person simply dies of a heart attack."

"How is this impossible? You said it yourself Near; you're convinced that there _is_ a way to beat the Death Note!" She took a step towards me, her hands gesturing as if to illustrate her point. I backed away, keeping the pencil behind my back and out of her reach. "Look at it this way," she tried to reason, "If we put a person in a room with a ..." she searched about and, upon seeing the 3D jigsaws I had lying around jabbed a finger at one of them, "A jigsaw puzzle! Then if we wrote his name in the Notebook and specified that he _solved_ the jigsaw before dying of a heart attack, he would!"

What a tenuous analogy. Did she seriously think that would work? I know I liked to describe this situation as a puzzle, but in truth it was hardly that. I actually snorted at her. "A more accurate comparison would be to put that man in a room and then specify that he writes down the key equations needed to solve Unified Field Theory before he dies. Somehow I suspect he would drop dead before ever putting pen to paper."

She still wasn't convinced and took another step towards me. I in turn took a corresponding step back.

"It has to be worth a shot, doesn't it? If there's even the slightest chance it could work, isn't it worth risking my life to save the lives of you and the other members of your team?"

It wasn't, and I said as much to her. "No. You'd just die needlessly. It's suicide, Linda. Don't throw your life away like this."

Our eyes met, and I could see the determination in hers, even though I couldn't hope to understand it. She stopped approaching me and simply held out her hand for me to return her pencil.

"It's my life, Near. I'm willing to take that chance."

"I'm not," I countered, my own eyes narrowing at her. Linda hesitated for a moment, then charged at me.

Damn.

We both fell to the floor, fighting over the pencil. It occurred to me that Linda could have simply strolled over and picked up any one of the dozen or so other pencils she had set aside, rather than fighting me for the one I had taken from her. I suppose she had just become carried away with the moment.

Either way, I didn't stand a chance. Back at the orphanage, Linda had frequently tried to convince me to come outside and play with her. I never did, preferring to stay inside and solve puzzles or stack things. I had never actually gone outside to play or partake in some kind of physically taxing activity at any point in my life. Consequently I had all the physical strength and ability of a doll. Linda had the pencil within seconds. I lunged for it again as she sat up, but she easily held it out of my reach.

"Sorry Near," she said, "You may be the smartest person I know, but you're weaker than a little girl."

She was right. I was forced to watch as she marched over to the table again, pencil ready to sign her own death warrant. And there wasn't a thing I could do to stop her. I had never felt so useless in my entire life. My heart thudded painfully in my chest and my vision began to blur.

"Linda," I said quietly. I felt something moist roll down my cheek, and my ever so sharp mind pointed out that it must be a tear. I was crying. For the first time I could ever recall doing so. Amazing. Was this how normal people felt when they were upset? I had no idea. I saw Linda pause, pencil touching a page of the Notebook for a second time, poised to write.

I had her attention. Now what should I say? Well here was a thought ... why not the truth?

"Linda, I ... don't _want_ you to die."

She hesitated, and I felt another tear follow the first one.

"Please don't do it," I added, my voice barely above a whisper. I had to wonder if she could even hear me, but she must have, because she lifted the pencil from the Notebook and slowly turned to regard me. She was stunned. By my words, by the tone of those words, and by the sight of me crying. Me. Near. The current L. Weeping at the prospect of what she was about to do.

I don't know who was more surprised by that. Her, or me.

"You're ... _crying_," Linda said in awe. I exhaled sharply and dried my eyes on my sleeve.

"So I am. How the mighty L has fallen." I chortled at that. I really was not acting myself. It must be the prospect of certain death looming before me. The prospect of defeat. I had to get a hold of myself, this was embarrassing.

"But ... you _never_ cry," Linda insisted. I blinked my eyes clear and shrugged.

"I suppose there is a first time for everything."

She turned back to regard the Death Note, before carefully closing it and setting her pencil down on the table beside it. She must have decided against her suicidal plan then. Relief flooded through me at that realisation, then puzzlement at my own feelings. This was getting ridiculous. Since when did I start being so sentimental?

Since I took up residence on death's doorstep, apparently.

Suddenly Linda was kneeling on the floor before me, a wry smile on her face. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed as if her eyes were sparkling. It _must _be my imagination. I refuse to believe I had descended into the levels of romantic, poetic nonsense.

"I'll make a deal with you," she said, "I won't die if you don't."

I smiled back at her and extended my hand. "Agreed."

* * *

><p>72:00:01<p>

72:00:00

71:59:59


	8. Entry 8: The Eleventh Hour

**Death Note: 23 Days Later**

Entry 8: The Eleventh Hour

* * *

><p>23:45:45<p>

23:45:44

23:45:43

* * *

><p>Twenty three days. That's the maximum length of time a Death Note can affect someone. A little over three weeks, tops. That's it. Twenty three days. Five hundred and fifty two hours. Thirty three thousand one hundred and twenty minutes. One million nine hundred eighty seven thousand two hundred seconds.<p>

Twenty three days. That's all I had. Now all I have left is one day. One measly day left to live, and nothing to show for it. For all my brilliance, for all my genius, I've been outsmarted by a _notebook_.

And that's how it all happened. I thought I could win. I thought I could defeat the Death Note. Conquer death itself.

I thought wrong.

So here I am, on the final day of my life, lamenting my own defeat. I tried. I really did, but that's all there is to it. End of story.

Game Over.

I laid on my back amidst the scattered toys and cards that littered the control room floor, staring up at the ceiling, my mind blank for perhaps the first time in my life. I couldn't think of anything. I was like a computer that had crashed and presented nothing but a black screen with a single flashing prompt, waiting for input.

"Looks like I finally have my revenge, Near," said Light, standing above me and leering mockingly. "You never were worthy of the title 'L', I told you. You're nothing but a cheap imitation. I guess I'll see you in oblivion ..."

Mello appeared beside him, scowling down at me with disdain. "Giving up, Near? I expected better of you than this. I gave my life so that you could defeat Kira, and this is the thanks I get in return? You lose to some idiot Kira fanboy a few years later. What a disappointment."

"Yes," L concurred, standing opposite Mello with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a bored look upon his face, "A big disappointment. I had high hopes for you, Near. I thought that if anyone could succeed me, it was you. Evidently I was wrong about that."

These taunting fragments of my tortured psyche vanished, leaving me alone once more to ponder my own failings. As if I needed reminding. No one was more disappointed in me than I was. I'd let my team down, and I'd let myself down. There was no escaping it now - in a little under twenty four hours I would be dead. And that's all there was to it.

"Near ..."

I frowned. Someone was calling my name, and this time it wasn't a figment of my imagination.

"Near!"

It was Linda. She had left half an hour ago to go and check on something. She must have returned.

"Stop sulking and come take a look at this," she instructed in tones that would accept no argument. With a weary sigh I forced myself to sit up and stare across the room to where she stood. She had an intense expression upon her face and was holding some manner of plastic container.

"What is it?" I asked without much enthusiasm. Linda upended the contents of the container upon the table and then set it down on the floor, before gesturing for me to come over. At this point I had so little willpower left that I'm afraid I just sat there and stared, not moving a muscle. Eventually Linda got fed up and picked up a crumpled piece of paper, before tossing it directly at me. It hit me in the face, prompting me to flinch. Realising that the container she had emptied was filled with crumpled up bits of paper, and that she had just thrown one of them at me, I scooped the projectile up and carefully opened it up. After smoothing it out I was eventually able to read it.

It was very strange. It was a seemingly normal piece of paper, upon which someone had written the same name over and over, repeatedly, each time more frantic than the last.

Shiori Akino

I frowned again and glanced up at Linda, who was leaning on the table and watching me expectantly. "What is this?" I asked her.

"Evidence recovered from Taro Kagami's hideout," she explained, "You never looked at any of it, did you? Well apparently there were half a dozen of these pages, all with the same name written on them, all screwed up into a ball. Your team found them lying in a corner of the room where Kagami had his Notebook and computers set up. It looked as if they had been thrown there."

I glanced down at the paper in my hand, realisation dawning on me. This was a page from his Death Note. They all were. Kagami had repeatedly written the same name down in his Notebook, again and again and again, growing increasingly frustrated as he did so. Then he had torn them out, screwed them up and hurled them across the room, as if in a rage.

Why?

"Near, do you realise what this could mean?"

Of course. It was obvious. He had written down someone's name, and they had _not_ died as a result. Upon learning of this, the latest Kira had gone into a frenzy and tried repeatedly to use the Notebook to try and kill this person, each attempt ending only in more failure. Or so I deduced.

In other words ... the Death Note had failed to kill Shiori Akino, despite the fact that Taro Kagami had the Shinigami eyes.

How was that possible?

"I suppose her name may have already been written down in another Notebook ..." I offered tentatively, my eyes rooted to the crumpled page I held. Linda snorted.

"Yeah right. Have you seen _any_ evidence that there's another Death Note out there in use?"

I had not. Which did not necessarily mean that there wasn't one, but it did seem unlikely. In which case ... I lowered the page and stared at Linda, my heart beating fast.

"We need to find this Shiori Akino and see if she is still alive," I said, thoughts bouncing about inside my head like a pool table after the break shot had been made. If she _was_ still alive then it would mean that she had somehow survived having the Death Note used against her. And if _that_ happened to be true then ...

Then there might still be a chance for me after all.

* * *

><p>11:11:13<p>

11:11:12

11:11:11

* * *

><p>Tracking her down proved surprisingly easy. Kagami had been targeting criminals, just as the original Kira had done, and he'd used his computer to find their faces in the online news. Since we had his computers to hand, it was a simple matter of going through his internet history in order to locate the relevant crime report naming Shiori Akino.<p>

A graduate of To-Oh University, Shiori had been arrested months ago for the murder of her abusive boyfriend. She cited a year of emotional and physical torment at his hands as the reason for her crime. She had been too afraid to go to the police, and one night when her boyfriend returned, drunk, a fight had ensued and Shiori had defended herself.

It was a simple matter to contact the Japanese police, unfortunately we were forced to wait hours for them to get back to us. This may have been my fault - when I had tracked Kagami down and sent my team in to apprehend him in Kyoto, I had done so without informing the local police, who did not appreciate learning that armed Americans had gunned down a criminal in their jurisdiction. In the end I had to call in a favour from Aizawa, who emailed me the relevant information.

Shiori Akino was still very much alive, and was in prison awaiting trial.

After some more wrangling I was able to arrange for a video conference with her, all the while the precious time I had left continuing to tick by. At long last, Linda and I sat and watched as prison security led Shiori Akino into a conference room where a member of the Japanese police was waiting with a laptop, the live feed being streamed directly to the monitor in front of us.

One look at her told me everything I needed to know.

In that moment my mind exploded with activity. Thoughts, images, ideas, information, all whirled and spun around me in a supernova of data as I sat, open-mouthed in enraptured epiphany.

That was it. That was the exception I needed, the weakness I could exploit. In that instant I saw exactly what I needed to do to win, to defeat the Death Note and save us all. It was so simple. The kind of thing Mello would think of. It could work. It _would _work.

Assuming I could put my plan into effect before time ran out.

"Thank you, that will be all," I said, pushing the speaker button before me. My words echoed back at me via the video feed, albeit masked by my voice filter. Shiori seemed confused, whilst the police officer that had set up the video conference spluttered.

"What? I thought you wanted to talk to her?"

"That will not be necessary," I answered matter of factly, "I have the information I need. Oh, and Miss Akino? You may have just saved the lives of five people, myself included. If all goes well I will do everything in my power to have you pardoned and released."

Needless to say my words completely flabbergasted everyone, including Linda. She turned to me as I severed the connection, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"I don't get it," she said, "Why isn't she dead? And how is this going to help you?"

Smiling widely, I got up and snatched up one of the Death Note rule cards from the floor. As I straightened I stared at it, the details of my plan rolling over and over in my mind as I went over each step that needed to be taken.

"We spent weeks looking over the rules, searching for some loophole to exploit," I explained, "I was certain one of the rules could be used to our advantage, and it turns out I was right. The thing was, it wasn't any of the obvious rules I had picked out. The key to defeating the Death Note lies with _this_ particular rule."

I tossed her the card and she caught it, her eyes widening as she read the words printed upon it. Meanwhile I picked up one of the secure telephones and put a call through to Rester's cell phone. He answered on the second ring.

"Near? What is it?"

"Commander, there's been a development. I have the solution to our dilemma, but it will require some specialised and highly dangerous equipment."

"What do you need?" I heard him ask, unable to conceal a hint of excitement from his voice. I smirked at that and told him what I wanted. Anyone else would have asked me why, or protested that such things were difficult to obtain on short notice. Not Rester. He knew me, and knew better than to voice such questions or concerns. If I said I needed something, he wouldn't waste time asking me why.

"Meet me at the Yellow Box Warehouse as soon as you can," I added, glancing at a wall mounted clock and then at the LED countdown, my mind calculating at dizzying speed, "I'll contact the rest of the team and instruct them to do the same. Time is of the serious essence, Commander. I don't think I need to point out that our lives are on the line on this one."

"I'll be there, count on it," Rester responded, before hanging up. I did likewise. I had several calls to make. Even if all went well, we would still be cutting things extremely fine. It would be a terrible shame to finally have the solution dangled before me, only to die before I could implement it.

I sat, perched in my usual fashion, and wrapped the phone cord around my finger as I waited for the next member of the SPK to respond. As I waited I glanced over at Linda, who was slowly starting to piece together my plan.

"You're insane," she said when it finally hit her. I couldn't argue with her there.

"Will you do it?" I asked. Linda chortled and extended her hands.

"You have to ask?"

Roger picked up and I relayed my instructions to him. It would be difficult for him to make the rendezvous on time, but not impossible. And given what was at stake, I didn't doubt that he would find a way. I hung up and then punched in the number for Gevanni's cell. As I waited for him to answer, I regarded Linda with a certain warmth I was unaccustomed to feeling. She produced a fresh lollipop and shoved it into her mouth, her cheeks flushed with colour.

"Linda?"

"Mmm?"

"If I live through this ... I owe you one."

"Damn right."

* * *

><p>11:00:02<p>

11:00:01

11:00:00


	9. Entry 9: Theosis

Okay, so here's the final chapter. Hope you like it. Sorry if Near's plan has been done before. Anyway, thanks for reading folks. Please leave a review if you enjoyed this.

* * *

><p><strong>Death Note: 23 Days Later<strong>

Entry 9: Theosis

* * *

><p>00:05:13<p>

00:05:12

00:05:11

* * *

><p>Yellow Box Warehouse. It was here that I confronted and unmasked Kira. It was here I defeated Light Yagami. It therefore seemed fitting to me that it should be here that I vanquished the Death Note itself, once and for all. There was also the issue of minimising collateral damage should my plan actually fail. I felt certain it would work, but just to be safe, a remote and isolated place such as this warehouse would ensure the damage remained contained.<p>

Everyone was present save for Rester. I had received a call from him informing me that he had secured the equipment I requested and was on his way. By my estimation he should arrive any minute now.

Unfortunately we only had five minutes left. I had brought the LED countdown clock and set it up on a stand in the middle of the warehouse. The SPK stood a short distance away from it, waiting and watching nervously as the remaining seconds of their lives ticked away. I sat on the floor with Linda and played rock paper scissors with her, much to the apparent annoyance of the others.

"What's taking him so long?" Gevanni started to pace, impatient. I could hardly blame him, given the circumstances.

"He'll be here," I assured him as I lost my fifth game in a row. I was trying to apply statistics and probability to the game, yet Linda consistently trumped my efforts through simple guesswork. She was annoyingly intuitive. Halle Lidner leaned over Linda's shoulder in order to better watch, smirking a little as she did so.

"Hey, you're pretty good," she remarked, "Who exactly are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm Near's girlfriend," Linda replied teasingly, which drew startled looks despite the tense situation at hand. I scowled, losing yet another round as her scissors cut my paper.

"Pay no attention to her," I said tersely, "She's giddy."

Thankfully any further questions were driven away by the arrival of Commander Rester, who entered the Warehouse carrying two large duffel bags. Gevanni hurried over to help him, and the team watched on with intense curiosity as the Commander unzipped the bags.

"Nice of you to join us, Commander," I said, glancing briefly at the clock (three minutes left, time enough). "I trust you had no difficulties obtaining what I asked?"

"I had to call in a few favours, but I got it done," he replied as he lifted out one of the devices. Lidner, Gevanni and Roger were all extremely shocked, to say the least.

"Is that what I think it is?" Lidner asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes," I said flatly, "Please put it on. There's one for each of us."

"You can't be serious?" Gevanni blurted out, taking a step back from Rester and the bags, "You want us to_ wear_ those?"

By now I was already slipping one on myself, Rester helping me into it. Linda and Roger wordlessly did the same, the former already being aware of the plan in advance and the latter not caring to protest the matter. As for the others, I could understand their trepidation. They had-

00:02:31

-left to live, and here I was, asking them to strap on suicide vests. Special jackets packed with explosives, the kind used by suicide bombers and terrorists. To them, it probably looked as if the cure was worse than the disease. Nevertheless ...

"There isn't time to argue or explain," I said coldly once I was securely rigged, "Do as I say, or die. It's your choice."

Harsh, but I _was_ trying to save their lives, and there really _wasn't_ any time to argue about it. This was our only chance to live. The only alternative was a heart attack, courtesy of the Death Note. A dead certainty, if you'd pardon the pun.

Needless to say, they got over their initial shock and put on their respective vests. Once that was done, Rester handed each of us a special detonator to hold.

"This is known as a 'deadman switch'," he explained, handing them out, "Once activated, it will trigger in the event you release it."

"Are they rigged the way I instructed?" I asked. Rester nodded.

"If any one switch is released, it will cause all the vests to simultaneously detonate."

"Good," I regarded my switch and then looked around at the assembled group. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please?"

I did. Their full and undivided attention. We all had a minute left to live. I tried not to smile.

"Under _no circumstances_ let go of your trigger," I said firmly, "Once Rester primes the explosives, releasing your trigger will result in _all_ of us dying instantly."

"This is insane," Gevanni protested, "In less than a minute we're all going to have heart attacks, which means we're _all_ going to let go of them. This whole warehouse will go up in one big ball of fire."

"More to the point, your girlfriend here will die along with us," Lidner pointed out, jabbing a thumb towards Linda. Ah. Now I did smile, I couldn't help it. Linda did as well.

"Actually, Linda here is precisely the reason we_ won't_ all die from heart attacks ..." I glanced around at the clock.

00:00:40

Forty seconds. How appropriate. Just enough time to make them understand. I turned back to them, a sly expression upon my face. Time for the speech.

"About twenty two days ago, I managed to get a peek of a certain guidebook used by the Shinigami. It contained all the rules of the Death Note, including those not found written inside the cover. Making a copy of those rules, Linda and I went through them one by one, trying to find a loophole to exploit. But no matter how we tried, we couldn't find one to help us."

Here I nodded to Rester, who primed and activated the suicide vests, reminding everyone as he did so not to let go of the triggers we were each carrying. Once that was taken care of, I picked up where I had left of.

"Then earlier today, we caught a break. We found someone who had survived having their name written in the Notebook. Repeatedly in fact. Her name was Shiori Akino. We tracked her down, and we soon figured out why - she was pregnant."

As they all exchanged looks at this revelation, I reached into my shirt and pulled out a card. The same card I had tossed to Linda earlier, the one that had that ever so crucial rule upon it. I passed this to Lidner and asked her to read it out. Frowning, she did so.

"Whether the cause of the individual's death is either a suicide or accident, if the death leads to the death of more than the intended, the person will simply die of a heart attack. This is to ensure that other lives are not influenced."

"There was another, similar rule, which states: 'Even though only one name is written in the Death Note, if it influences and causes other humans that are not written in it to die, the victim's cause of death will be a heart attack.'" I continued, "The intention behind these rules is clear; the Death Note will only kill people whose names are written down. You cannot use the Notebook to control someone and have them gun down a group of people before turning the gun on them self - not without also writing down the names of their victims as well."

Linda nodded enthusiastically. "That's why Shiori Akino didn't die. The Death Note can't kill a pregnant woman, because doing so, even with a heart attack, would kill her unborn child."

"From the beginning," I resumed, "it was clear to me that there were instances where the Notebook would refuse to kill someone, even if their name was properly written down. All I needed was a situation I could exploit, and Miss Akino gave it to me. As that rule you're holding states, in the event that the Death Note might kill someone whose name is _not_ written down, then the person whose name _is_ written down shall simply die of a heart attack, so as to prevent the death of the other. However, as Akino demonstrated, in the event that even a _heart attack_ would cause the death of someone whose name was not written down, then the Death Note will simply not kill the victim at all."

They were starting to understand, I could see it in their expressions. The light of realisation hitting them. Roger was the one to actually put the final piece of my plan into words.

"That's why Linda is here. Out of all of us, she's the only one whose name has not been written in the Notebook. And right now, her life is in our hands. If we die, if _any_ of us were to die right now, even from a heart attack, it would trigger these explosives we're all wearing and kill her as well."

"Precisely," I said, my voice almost gloating, "As it stands, if the Death Note were to kill any of us, Linda would also die. And as it has already demonstrated, it will not act if doing so causes the death of an innocent, of someone who hasn't been written down. We've backed the Death Note into a corner, and given it no choice: kill us, and Linda with us, or let us all live. And as you can all see, we're still very much alive ..."

They'd all been so wrapped up in my little speech that none of them had even noticed that our time had been up for over a minute now. Everyone turned to stare at the countdown, which had finally ceased counting down.

The clock had ceased ticking.

The sand had ceased flowing.

Our time was up.

00:00:00

Yet we were still alive. All of us.

I signalled to a stunned Commander Rester that he should deactivate the explosives, and as soon as he had done so I turned and stared across the dark expanse of the warehouse, my hand extended. Smirking, I released my deadman switch, letting it hit the ground at my feet.

"The game's up, Ryuk. Tell the Old Man I'll be calling on him soon to collect on my reward."

* * *

><p>And just like that, it was over. I'd won.<p>

I will spare you the varied reactions of my team upon learning that they were going to live. After three weeks of preparing for and facing certain death, to finally learn that they had just narrowly avoided it ... it had a profound psychological impact to say the least.

In the end they were grateful. I will spare you the details of their displays of gratitude as well, which was far more than I deserved, seeing as my less than stellar leadership had put their lives on the line to begin with. They were content to blame Kira for that though, and not me.

As for me, I had a few things to take care of ...

* * *

><p>"It's a girl."<p>

"Congratulations, Miss Akino," I said, staring at the newborn baby cradled in her mother's arms, while Shiori beamed at me. I shifted about uncomfortably in my chair. Hospitals made me nervous. Even with Commander Rester waiting out in the hallway, I still felt uneasy. "I'm happy to say that all charges against you have been dropped," I added after a moments pause.

"I know, they told me. I can't thank you enough ... L, was it?"

I shook my head. "Call me Near."

"Near. Thank you."

"As I said Miss Akino, I'm the one who should be thanking you. Were it not for you, I would not be alive today. So really, it was the least I could do."

Actually, it wasn't. I'd also taken steps to make sure that she would be financially taken care of as well. I neglected to mention this to her however, as I'd had more than enough gratitude from people lately than I could comfortably handle. Anyone would think I was a _nice_ person.

"I haven't picked out a name yet," Shiori said carefully, "I was hoping that maybe you might name her. After all, it's thanks to you she wont have to grow up with her mother in jail."

Me? Name the child? I stared at the little girl, who was sound asleep. A name. Names were important, if anything I knew that more than most. I considered the matter seriously for a while. What should I name her? Hmmm. Finally I made up my mind.

"Yonah."

Shiori rolled the name over in her mind for a moment, and then nodded.

"Yonah. I like it. Thank you, Near."

* * *

><p>A week later and I was back at SPK headquarters in the United States. The rest of the team were still on vacation. Despite having already <em>had<em> three weeks vacation, I felt they all needed a little more time off to unwind after their close brush with death.

Before leaving Japan I'd bought myself some new toys to play with. Well, they weren't _exactly_ toys as such ...

"Playing with dolls," Linda observed as she entered the command centre, "Hmm. You _do_ realise how girly that makes you look, right Near?"

"I thought I'd give you something interesting to draw," I responded as I carefully laid out the miniature doll tea set I'd bought as well. "How was your trip?"

"Good," Linda set her bags down beside one of the computer consoles, "Sold three of my paintings. Had a nice review written about my work as well."

"Glad to hear it."

She was trying to force herself not to ask me, I could tell. Ever since she'd found out about it. It was gnawing at her, the curiosity. Given all the teasing I'd endured at her hands of late, I was content to remain silent and let her stew a little longer. I passed the time by pouring the tea for my little doll tea party while Linda stood and contemplated whether or not to ask.

"Oh c'mon Near! You're killing me here!"

Well that didn't take long ...

"Whatever do you mean, Linda?"

"You know very well what I mean! Your wish!"

"Oh that ..."

She threw up her hands in exasperation. "'Oh that' he says, like it was no big deal! You win a wager against the King of the Shinigami and you get one wish from him. So out with it already - _what did you wish for_?"

I'd been waiting for this moment. I wanted the execution to be just right. Like Sherlock Holmes, I have a flair for the dramatic. I couldn't help myself. Finally, I removed a folded piece of paper from my shirt pocket and held it out towards her. She took it from me and unfolded it, frowning as she did so.

_Turn around_

"Wha-?" Linda glanced up at me, and then turned around. Then she screamed and fell over.

"Why Linda," I said smugly, "You look like you've seen a ghost ..."

* * *

><p>"There's no need to be so bitter. Here, have an apple."<p>

The Shinigami King snatched the offered fruit and devoured it whole. I waited patiently, seated on the ground beneath him once again. I'd wrapped up warm for the occasion this time, though, remembering how cold it had been before.

"Hmmph. You have made your point, human. We're all very impressed. Now what is it that you wish of me?"

I'd been waiting over three weeks for this moment. Ever since I'd struck a deal with the Old Man. Hard to believe the moment had finally arrived. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was a drawing that Linda had graciously done at my request during the twenty three days the clock had been ticking.

"His name was Mihael Keehl," I said, holding the drawing above my head until it was taken by the King, "I want you to bring him back."

"Out of the question."

"You won't do it?"

"I _can't_ do it; when a human dies, they can never come back. Those are the rules. Even I am bound by them."

I snorted. These Shinigami were all so unimaginative ...

"I think you're overlooking the obvious loophole in the rules," I said, slowly getting to my feet, "It says that when a human dies, they can never return to life." I tilted my head back and looked up at the King, smiling as I did so.

"What about Shinigami?"

* * *

><p>"<em>MELLO<em>?"

"Well well, if it isn't the little artist. All grown up now, I see. Hello again Linda."

Linda gaped at the gothic looking spectre perched before her, clutching a slab of chocolate in one clawed hand. She scrabbled backwards across the floor until she was right next to me, her mouth hanging open in utter astonishment.

"You're ... you're a _Shinigami_?"

He was, yes. The rules of the Death Note prohibited _humans_ from ever returning to life. They said nothing about Shinigami. A technicality, but I'd recently defeated the Death Note on a technicality, so why not? The piece of paper I had handed to Linda was a fragment torn out of Mello's Death Note. A nasty surprise to spring on anyone, much less someone who knew Mello, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Thank Near for that," Mello muttered ungraciously. I snorted.

"Really Mello, I go to all the trouble of bringing you back from the dead, and as a god no less, to say nothing of giving up the title of L for you ... you could at least try to be a little nicer about it."

He merely rolled his eyes at that and bit into his chocolate. Linda was still struggling to get over her initial shock at seeing Mello alive once more. He remained recognisable as Mello, though there were a few noticeable changes to his appearance. I have to say, he quite suited the Shinigami look.

While I sipped tea from a tiny cup, Linda got up, sidled over to Mello, and then poked him experimentally. He glared at her.

"Will you knock that off?"

"Sorry. Just didn't expect to ever see you again. So ... what was it like? Being dead?"

Mello glowered. "I don't want to talk about it."

Linda hunted around one of her bags until she found a sketchpad and pencil. Then she sat on the table and began drawing Mello, much to his intense annoyance.

"Hey, what are you doing? Are you drawing me?"

"She is, yes," I said.

"I didn't say you could draw me! Stop that!"

I chortled. "Just count yourself lucky you don't have to sleep anymore. She likes drawing cute boys while they sleep."

Mello was not amused. "Linda, don't make me write your name in my Notebook," he warned, whereupon I threw a doll-sized tea spoon at his head. The expression on his face must have been quite funny, because Linda snorted with laughter and then scribbled furiously to try and capture it on paper. Meanwhile Mello turned his attention towards me.

"Don't think you're safe either, Near. I'll write your name down as well!"

I exhaled sharply and poured some milk into one of my doll's teacups. "Go right ahead, Mello. The Shinigami King was so impressed by me that he promised to make _me_ a Shinigami when I die. Even suggested he might abdicate in favour of me. Imagine that - Near, King of the Gods of Death. Has a nice ring to it."

Linda made a sickeningly cute noise at that. "Awwww. It looks as if the two of you will be together forever. Isn't that sweet, Mello?"

Mello groaned and buried his face in his hands in dismay. Being a Shinigami was not turning out to be as impressive as he'd supposed. "That lousy Notebook is just full of it," he snapped.

"Oh?"

Mello pulled out his own Notebook and read out one of the rules.

"Whoever uses the Death Note can neither go to Heaven nor Hell." He lowered it and grimaced. "I'm in Hell right now."

As Linda giggled incessantly, I smiled and held up a tiny cup.

"Care for some tea?"


End file.
